To Save The World
by Buckrocks
Summary: A story inspired by Joel C. Rosenburg's books 'The Last Jihad' and 'The Ezekiel Option' and many others.
1. The new job

Mark made his way to the bright red Dodge Ram truck on his driveway. "Finally! A job that will actually pay me!" He started his vehicle and started his road trip. Mark looked down at the map he had printed off on Google. "Wow. Far way off." His drive went on 'til his legs started to cramp. "Geez. How far must I drive to this stupid-"

Idiot. The building was right in front of him.

Mark giggled stupidly. "Oops." Getting out of his truck, he walked into the building, of which was far from any human partnership, with a sign that read:

_FEDERAL GOVERNMENT REHABILITATION AND TRAINING FOR PREHISTORIC ANIMALS_


	2. The little devil in Dept 56

Manny and the herd watched in slight confusion as a man advanced towards Diego steadily. The tiger looked at his friends. "What's with these guys?" Of course, the human didn't understand him.

"Easy...easy boy...easy..."

This behaviour was making Diego nervous. The last time a guy had gone up to him in this manner, a sack had been thrown over his head and the guy, thinking Diego's frightened roars were threats, had hit him in the head. Diego didn't like this. It made him feel edgy and frustrated.

Just before the man got within two feet of the saber-toothed tiger, the manager's voice rang through the hall.

"PETER! GET OUTTA THERE!"

Peter, muttering to himself like a growling animal, turned and left the cage. Diego sighed in relief. "Whew...close call."

Peter stomped out to the manager. "What now?" he demanded. The manager introduced him to Mark, who had watched the ordeal with the saber with interest. "Peter," the manager asked, "would you mind to show Mark around?" Peter sighed wearily. "Be my guest."

...

That afternoon, Mark found Peter with some other men surrounding a table, laughing while cigarette smoke swirled over their heads. Mark shook his head with disgust as he sat down. Peter leaned forward to him.

"Hey Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"Since your new to this whole 'prehistoric animal' thing-" Here, he winked at the other men, who laughed like idiots. "-we've got this...traditional... thing, that we do with newcomers."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "And that is..."

"You have to pick up that pail of fish in the corner..."

"_AND?_"

"...and feed the little devil in Dept. 56."

Mark stared. "The...?" Peter chuckled evilly. "Oh, did you know that the last guy that went in there was eaten?" Mark's eyes bugged. One of the men beside Peter leaned forward and, breathing smelly cigarette breath in Mark's face, huskily whispered, "Eaten _alive!_"

One skinny man in the corner piped up, "You could've heard his screaming all the way to the White House!" Everybody laughed, except Mark. Instead, he got up from his chair. "When do you feed it?"

The answer?

"Oh, every ten days. I'm shocked that he still lives!" More laughter.

...

Peaches, Crash, and Eddie watched through the bars of their cage as the team of men walked past. The herd wad only been defrosted several days earlier, and knew nothing about the 'little devil' in Dept. 56.

In fact, Dept. 56 was just across from their own cage!

...

Peter handed Mark the pail full of fish. "All you have to do is go in there, put the pail down, and get outta there or it'll send you to kingdom come! Got that?" Mark gulped. _Why am I doing this? _"O-okay." The men opened the door and Mark stepped into the cage.

...

"What are they doing?" Peaches looked at her two possum uncles. Both shrugged.

...

Mark glanced around at the fake trees and bushes that flooded the cage. Nothing. But wait! Had he just heard a growl? _Probably my imagination. _But just before he even put the pail down, a whirlwind of fury was unleashed on him. Claws and teeth ripped into his shirt and skin. Mark grabbed the little devil, of which was strangely soft like his pet, and threw it to the ground. He turned and ran for the door. Driven insane with fright, he threw himself through the door just as the men closed it. The little devil inside crashed into the door, and blood splattered on the window.

...

Crash and Eddie stared. They, besides Peaches, were the only ones to have seen the 'little devil'. What they had seen made them feel shocked, frightened, and tearful all at once.

Because that 'little devil' was Buck, starved to the moment he went wild.


	3. Contact

Mark stumbled to his feet and slowly advanced towards the window. The men with him laughed wildly.

"Ha ha ha! Did ya see that?!"

"Yeah! Beat 'im like a man, he did!"

"Aw, no way! My grandmother could've done that!"

Ignoring them, Mark looked into the cage. Buck wiggled to his feet, blood streaming from his muzzle. Glaring hungrily at Mark, he went back to the far side of the cage, snarling dangerously. Mark whirled around to face Peter.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO THAT WEASEL?!"

Boy, was he steaming mad! Peter grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "Just mind your own business, okay?" he hissed. Mark pulled back and glared at him. "I don't care what you do, I'm getting the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals Society notified about this." Mark turned and dodged Peter's aggressive charge and ran out the door. Peter dived and grabbed him by the ankle. "You do that, and you're dead! I'll lock you in with the little demon if you like!"

As if to warn Mark of his fate if he ran, Buck let out a battle cry that sounded like a cougar's roar, and the door shuddered as if he had thrown himself against it. Mark sighed inwardly.

He was trapped.

...

"What are they doing?! Why are they doing this?! WHY?!"

Eddie sobbed hysterically on the floor. Crash sat next to his brother, looking very upset. Peaches cocked her head. "Uh...am I missing something?" Crash told her all about Buck, and when he finished, Peaches was staring at the door of Buck's cage.

"Poor guy."

...

**That night:**

Mark stood before the door, a pail of salmon in his hand. He carefully opened the door and closed it behind him. From somewhere in the cage, a vicious growl reached his ears. Mark set down the pail and lay down on the floor. His flashlight flickered. _Darn it. Knew I should've changed the batteries. _In the dim light, he could see the weasel creep towards the salmon. With a hungry, eager growl, Buck bumped the pail and it fell over, the fish spilling to the ground. As he tore into the unexpected meal (the other guys don't feed him every day, you may recall), Buck was aware of another presence in the cage. Lifting his head, he saw a dark silhouette of a man laying on his side right next to the door. Buck snarled menacingly.

Man had put him in this cage. Man had done this to him. His every sense screamed danger. Buck charged at the silhouette, his mouth open in a gaping snarl.

Mark winced at the weasel's teeth sunk into his hand, but he didn't scream or pull away.

As his teeth broke the human's flesh, Buck was aware of something else. The human didn't struggle. Buck growled with satisfaction and turned to the salmon on the floor. Maybe he had already killed the man. But just as he took one big juicy bite out of a fish, he saw the man move. Outraged, Buck flew at the man again and sank his fangs into his arm. Once again, the man didn't struggle. Confused, Buck stared at the human.

Suddenly, the human's hand descended towards his head. Danger! Buck cowered instantly. Though he was a wild animal, his instincts told him to surrender. Man was stronger, he had learned. If the man wished to beat him, so be it.

Mark's hand stopped in midair. The weasel lay shivering on the ground, but he didn't attack. Slowly, steadily, the animal turned over onto his back and whined like a dog. Mark shook his head sadly.

"What did they do to you?"

He reached forward towards the weasel.

Buck closed his eyes. _This is it._ He was done for. The human would finish him. As the human's hand touched his head, he winced, waiting for a hard fist to hit him. Instead, the contact he got made him freeze. The touch was soft and gentle. The man didn't hit him. Buck lay still, still shaking, only with rage!

How dare the human pet him like he was a dog! Buck growled, and the hand lifted off his head gently, not quick and frightened.

Mark couldn't believe that he had been able to actually _touch _the little devil in Dept. 56. As he opened the door to leave the dark room, he looked back at the weasel. The light from the hallway left a small ray that lighted up the weasel's confused stare as he watched the human leave.


	4. Decisions

**At the White House:**

"We can't fight them without knowing the weapons they may have."

"It'll be impossible to send spies out to the Middle-East without getting caught."

"Or killed."

The conversation went on. The only one silent at the meeting was the President. He stared at the papers on his desk, shuffling through them carelessly. Suddenly, one caught his eye.

_Federal Government Rehabilitation and Training for Prehistoric Animals?_

The president's eyebrow raised, then he smiled.

"This might just work."


End file.
